


Hot Dad Meets Aggressive Twink

by SKDuckett_20



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, black ice (jack frost and pitch black), sexy time in the club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKDuckett_20/pseuds/SKDuckett_20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kozmotis searches for his daughter Seraphina after she sneaks out to go clubbing with her friend. He wants to get out as soon as possible, but he meets a young and persuasive Jack, who distracts him from his quest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Dad Meets Aggressive Twink

**Author's Note:**

> Check out this artwork, made specifically for the original version of this story:  
> "Hot Dad" by Besteck  
> http://besteck.deviantart.com/art/Hot-Dad-403165898
> 
> NOTE:  
> This work was based off of a story by linddzz on tumblr (link to original here: http://linddzz.tumblr.com/post/62220541111/kozmotis-goes-enraged-to-pick-up-seraphina-who) and under Lindzzz on archive (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1295596/chapters/2688115). I read the story and loved it so much, and I had thoughts about new stuff to add to it, so I asked for permission from the author to re-write the story in my own way and expand upon it. It was a great piece to begin with, and I think I did a pretty bomb-ass job of re-envisioning it. Thank you, linddzz, for allowing me to further your work, and I hope you like my version! Also, shout-out to eltrkbarbarella for inspiring the original author to create the story in the first place! [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED]  
> ENJOY!
> 
> *Also, I'm SUPER pissed because for some reason, all of the stuff I italicized in WordDoc was TURNED INTO REGULAR TEXT!!!! Major annoyance, and right now I'm not going back through ALL that ish to capitalize everything that was once italicized, so good luck figuring out what words are supposed to be emphasized and when the characters are thinking full sentences to themselves in their heads.*

{KOZMOTIS:}

An enraged Kozmotis finally arrives at the godforsaken hell-gate of the club where his daughter, Seraphina, has escaped to. He can hear the muffled thumping of odd music surging within the building. He does NOT want to go in, but he has to retrieve his child.

“Why does she DO stuff like this to me?” He thinks aloud. “It’s not like I’M the problem in this situation. I’m not raising her poorly, or anything…” As he exits he car, however, another thought occurs to him: “But… What if I AM the problem? Am I doing something wrong?”

As he approaches the grungy, rust-covered door to the club (a rarely-used, unguarded side entrance given to him as a tip by the friend who ratted out Seraphina), he runs through a quick list of major things he provides for and supports his daughter in. “No… It can’t be me. I’m a good father! I show her love and respect, I keep her healthy and happy, I’m trying to help her find her place in the world… What more could she ask for? I can’t possibly be the problem here!”

He opens the door then; it’s heavier than it looks and makes a loud creak, but he manages to swing it outward. Hot air seeps out of the body-infested space, and he stands for a moment preparing himself to be extremely uncomfortable for who knows how long until he finds Seraphina.

“It’s gotta be her. It HAS to be. Teen angst, or whatever it’s called these days. Rebellious, for sure. It’s not me. It CAN'T be.” Still not pleased about having to enter the club, he inhales deeply, and on the exhale he steps over the threshold, letting the giant door close behind him.

The loud music shudders through his bones, fills his skull with a low rumbling pulse and drowns all his senses in vibrations that shake through his entire body. The bright lights flicker in swirling lasers that make hypnotic patterns over the writhing crowd. Good thing he’s not an epileptic, or else he would be on the floor writhing uncontrollably, and probably get trampled by the club-goers. He did wish, however, to be completely deaf right now.

Kozmotis grits his teeth and clenches his hands, hating every second that he’s stuck in this place, and loathing that he is having to come into this throbbing den to hunt down his dear, precious, sweet princess…whose neck is going to be absolutely WRUNG. Then grounded. Forever. Again. He’s having enough trouble dealing with his little girl growing up, which means he’s certainly not ready for her to be running off and sneaking into clubs – especially while underage.

WHY DOES THIS KIND OF THIG KEEP HAPPENING? WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? Kozmotis can’t help but think to himself. OR IS IT EVEN ME - IS IT JUST THAT I HAVE A PROBLEM CHILD? THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING IF HER MOTHER WERE STILL HERE… He stops the thought from continuing. Now is not the time for that. Now is the time for unbridled rage. THAT, he can allow with the greatest of ease.

The crowd, unfortunately, seems determined to keep him from fulfilling his role as “a terrible father who will, like, be totally hated forever” – paraphrased words spoken by Seraphina, herself, earlier today. Kozmotis barely catches sight of a tall girl with a wild crown of black hair, dancing alongside a girl with multicolored hair and a feather ornamented hairpiece (Tia, then. Of course – one was hardly without the other) before the crowd swarmed in and blocked his view. It seemed that the more he tried to push through, the denser the sea of bodies became, shoving him this way and that AWAY from where he wanted to be.

For the third time, he finds himself pushed and prodded to the edge of the dense horde, left to growl in frustration by the bar. He refrains from pounding his fists against it, thinking the bartender might not like that and will force him out of the place.  
The fourth time is the charm; it has to be. OH, SHE WON'T BE ALLOWED OUT OF HER ROOM FOR YEARS. That little brat, his dear, sweet, darling little thing is going to be locked up until she’s in her thirties after THIS ridiculous stunt.

“You lookin’ for somebody?” A voice calls out behind him.

Kozmotis pauses, just long enough to shoot a glare over at the voice, which he determines belongs to a vagrant of a young man lounging on the bar. The boy seems a little out of place with his casual jeans and hoodie, though the shock of bleached white hair and piercings studding up his ears help him fit in with the hedonistic crowd just fine. The boy grins at Kozmotis’ glower, leaning back against the bar with a lazy ease, save for his one raised eyebrow and curious expression.

“Not looking for anything like THAT, kid.” Kozmotis huffs, turning to begin his fourth try at hunting down his wayward offspring. A tug on his sleeve stops him, “I didn’t mean anything like ‘that’ either, yeesh,” the boy says, still grinning at the new glare shot at him. “I just noticed that everything about you screams ‘angry parent’…which is your problem, you know.”

“Is it now?” He really doesn’t have time for chit-chat.

“Oh, come on. The buttoned up shirt, determined glare, the air of ‘someone’s gonna get their ass kicked’… I mean, the only thing you’re missing is a boring old tie.” The boy gestures to the different parts of Kozmotis’ form as he points out the features in question. “It all says that you got some kid out there somewhere who shouldn’t be. And THAT'S why you’ll never get to them.” The boy pauses, watching the hope fade and the irritation rise in Kozmotis’ face. “You’ll never get anywhere storming in looking like you do.”

“And why, then,” Kozmotis drawls, narrowing his eyes, “are you acting so generously helpful?”

The boy shrugs as he pushes off the bar to stand in front of Kozmotis. “Well, usually I wouldn’t. But I like to mix things up, and I figured it’d be more fun to help someone out for a change.”

“Well, how are you– ” Kozmotis stops mid-sentence as the boy reaches out with a thoughtful expression, running fingers through his hair with a determined purpose. “What– hey!” Kozmotis starts angrily, hands flying up as the boy then goes to undo the top button on his shirt. “Stop that right now!” He snaps, catching the boy’s wrists.

“RELAX, pops, I’m just helping you blend in.”

“By undressing me?”

The boy pauses, then smirks up at him. “Well, no, but… ”

“No!” Kozmotis snaps, before the boy can finish the thought.

The boy shrugs, raising his hands in surrender, though his grin never leaves. “Okay, okay, geeze! But you’re gonna have to loosen up if you want to get anywhere in that crowd.”

Kozmotis frowns, jaw shifting as he looks from the boy, then to the crowd, and back again to the boy.

“Name’s Jack, by the way.”

Kozmotis hesitates; do they really need to be exchanging names? It’s not like they’re ever going to see each other after this night, and besides–

“Hey, you, tall drink of water – you got a name?”

Fine. What’s the harm? “Kozmotis,” he replies, distracted as he weighs his options, searching again through the crowd hoping to find his raven-haired daughter.

“That’s one I haven’t heard before. Are you foreign?”

Kozmotis has had enough of this banter. He has a mission: find his stress-inducing runaway and introduce her to the story of Rapunzel on the way home. “Never mind that. What’s your plan to get through the crowd, huh?”

His gaze hadn’t torn from looking out over the crowd again, unfortunately, and therefore did not see the delicate hands reaching out to untuck his shirt, grab his belt-loops, and yank him in. “Just follow my lead,” Jack purrs.

Kozmotis freezes up, sharply turn his head to look at the boy in shock. The music pounds through him, throbbing with his heartbeat, making the hot air push on him, push him against the thin body that is suddenly pressed up against his front much too close for his own comfort.

“No.” He manages, ignoring how the protest comes out a strained squawk, and trying to add some distance between himself and the young figure. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What’s the matter?” Jack laughs, hands sliding up from the belt-loops to drag up his shirt, then lacing his fingers lazily behind Kozmotis’ neck. Kozmotis swallows and quickly looks away from the blue eyes that are far too challenging. “Never danced with a dude before?”

“That… You barely look older than my daughter – whom I NEED to find as soon as possible, by the way!” Kozmotis stammers, staring out at the crowd with a newfound panic. WHAT IS THIS KID DOING? WHY DID HE ATTACH HIMSELF TO ME, OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN HERE?

“Oh HOOOO! So you HAVE danced with dudes,” Jack cackles, moving an inch closer to where he’s hanging on Kozmotis.

“I was in the military,” Kozmotis sniffs.

“Definitely danced with dudes, then,” Jack smirks. “Nice!”

Kozmotis sets his jaw and doesn’t dignify that with a response. “Look, thanks for your…help. But I’ll just– ”

“You’ll get pushed right back out again,” Jack points out, body shifting with the music, a subtle roll with the harsh thrum. Kozmotis’ mouth goes dry, contemplating whether he should try on his own, or if his only hope is this strange boy. His mind screams out several protests as his hands hesitantly and awkwardly come up to land on slim, jean-clad hips.

“Fine. Just…don’t get any ideas, alright?” Kozmotis rasps, not sure if he’s talking to himself or the boy. Jack, whose grin is a flash of teeth in the strobe light and whose eyes are a bright blue spark, promises to be a world of trouble for Kozmotis.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jack smiles. “Mmmm, MAN I really wish you had that tie right now.” Before Kozmotis can open his mouth to inquire about that statement, Jack tugs with the hands still locked behind Kozmotis’ neck and draws him into the crowd.

This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. The worst idea that he has ever gone along with. The crowd makes everything worse; it writhes around them, a steady heaving that pushes Jack flush against him, leaving him no escape from the lean heat forced up against his chest. And in other places… Mainly, everywhere else.

WHAT AM I DOING? Kozmotis can’t help but think over and over again, alternating with I’M DOING THIS TO FIND MY DAUGHTER.

Jack leans up, breath ghosting over Kozmotis’ neck. “Relax, man,” he whispers, untangling a hand to steadily stroke down the base of Kozmotis’ neck, trying to release some of the tension. “What’s your troubled kid look like?”

Kozmotis shakes himself, clears his throat, and closes his eyes. No, that makes it worse; he can feel Jack moving against him in time to the music, and the motion he’s making with his hand on his neck is so soothing he feels he might sink into it. Christ, he doesn’t even KNOW this kid.

“Tall.” He exhales, opening his eyes again and forcing himself to relax by breathing deeply. “She’s tall, with long black hair, which is up in some messy…thing, last time I got a glimpse of her. She’s with a friend, a petite girl with dyed hair and feathers.”

Jack tugs him this way and that through the crowd, fluid and effortless as he leads them in a winding, swirling pattern. He keeps his cheek up and pressed against Kozmotis’ jawbone, their skin sticking with sweat as the heat drowns them. His breath seems to drown the music that Kozmotis can hear through his ribs. “Sounds familiar. She got your cheekbones?”

Kozmotis is taken aback by the odd question. “I…suppose?” he manages to breath out. He never paid THAT much attention to whether or not Seraphina has his cheekbones or not, and thinking at all is difficult at the moment. He has to keep himself aware and alert, so he organizes his mission into stages: FIND SERAPHINA, DRAG HER OUT OF HERE, TAKE HER HOME, GO TO BED.

“Cool. You’re the skyscraper of the two of us, so lemme know when you lock onto the target and I’ll get you over there.”

Jack takes his hands from behind Kozmotis’ neck, sliding them down over his shoulders, fingers catching briefly at his open collar, shocking against skin for just a moment before pouring down to rest over his chest.

Shit. Kozmotis blinks rapidly, swallows past the cotton that’s filled his mouth, and glances around as he moves automatically with Jack. Shit! He has no idea how to “dance” to this noise, so he simply rolls with Jack, trying not to think too much about the heat…or the contact between their bodies…or the way the music vibrates between them…or that there isn’t much “between them” to speak of at the moment. shit, Shit, SHIT! Distraction needed...

"So, um, you mentioned before that my description of my daughter sounded familiar. Does that mean you see her in here a lot? Because if so, she is in much more trouble than she already is."

"Well, I mean, I've been coming here for a few years, and I've seen her around every weekend for about... I don't, a couple of months, maybe? Sooo..."

“Okay,” He wheezes, breathing more rapidly as time goes on. “Fine. Good. No worries.”

SO many worries. The list of worries just keeps growing and growing. Fantastic.

“Hey,” Jack nudges his cheek against Kozmotis’, and God he swears he can FEEL the grin bunching up against his jawline and a quick, barely-there brush of lips that makes him nearly jump out of his skin. “I told you to relax. You’re gonna get noticed if you keep acting like some trapped rabbit.”

Comparing him to prey. It felt strangely fitting, which Kozmotis tries desperately not to think about. HE'S the one trying to hunt prey down. WHERE THE HELL IS SHE? Jack must really be enjoying torturing him like this. Kozmotis, on the other hand, is obviously miserable.

“This is not my usual area,” He grits.

“Nooooo!” Jack gasps, moving up a bit so he can be heard better over the music, bringing those lips up by Kozmotis’ ear. “Really? I would never have guessed that! You seem like such a natural!”

He snorts, his lips twitching up in spite of his better judgement. “Shut up. I do much better in a QUIETER setting.”

Jack twists somehow, rolling up and sliding his hands down and around Kozmotis’ middle. “Is that an invitation?” He asks, voice full of a knowing smile. 

No. Not it was not. Definitely not. “Of course not, I– ”

Jack’s hands move to his hips and Kozmotis’ own larger hands twitch, feeling the place where hoodie meets the top of jeans and the heat seeping through both. Jack’s fingers are startlingly cold for how hot it is as they press into the thin material of his dress shirt. It’s getting even more difficult to finish a sentence, to focus on something else other than the contact he’s making with this…this…

“I don’t know you,” Kozmotis points out, as if that’s enough to save him from the coiling heat low in his body. As if that means anything when he’s suddenly struck by the thought of how easy it would be to lift Jack off the ground – how thin his hips are, how they would slide against his own, and how when he’s this close he can feel a heated bulge pressing against his thigh.

“I wouldn’t mind changing that, you know,” Jack breezes, still smiling. Does he ever stop SMILING?

“I’ve known you for maybe five minutes,” Kozmotis continues, head tilting, angling into where Jack’s breath floats against his ear until his own mouth is close to the skin at the edge of Jack’s jawline. It’s so cool… So…inviting…

“Now, ya see…” Jack says, voice still playful, though it’s lower now, just slightly breathier. “You just said that you don’t know me, and now you say you have known me for five minutes. You gotta make your mind up, dude.”

Kozmotis snorts and drops his head down, trying not to laugh because he’s pretty sure laughing isn’t an appropriate response in this sort of situation. Whatever situation this was. And why was he here to begin with, anyway? He needs to keep his head up to watch for something, something important…  
Someone. His daughter. Yes! Seraphina. The daughter he is going to lock up for years upon years because she decided to play hooky.

“So,” Jack says, his voice suddenly forced in a too-casual way that seems markedly out of character. “We know there’s a kid… Does that mean there’s a spouse in this equation?”

Kozmotis tenses. His wife’s death was long ago, long enough that he can think of her without any pain, but it’s still something he doesn’t like talking about – especially with random younger men in clubs where he’s supposed to be gathering up his escaped daughter. “No…no, it…it’s just me.” His voice is soft, far away.

“Good,” Jack says. The sudden press of lips against Kozmotis’ cheek sends his head shooting back up in surprise, as does the hand that slides around and slips without any subtlety into his back pocket. “Awesome, even.”

“What are you– ” He jumps at the slight squeeze on his buttock.

There’s another hand, still surprisingly cool on his jaw, pulling his head up as Jack leans back just enough to show him a lopsided grin. “So, would your kid be wearing a green dress?”

Kozmotis blinks rapidly, trying to figure out where the subject shift came from. “Um, perhaps? She does like gre– ” 

Jack surges up, the hand still on Kozmotis’ jaw holding him in place as thin, dry, cool lips press against his. Kozmotis turns statue-like for a second, eyes going wide before automatically shutting as he sways and leans down into the kiss without even thinking to do so. The kiss that should not be happening because he’s known this boy for five minutes and he’s sure that Jack is barely over 21 (22 at best, which is still FAR too young). Far too young for the way his own hands are curling up around that thin waist, for the way he presses into those lips, engulfed in the music pounding in his head and thrumming through him, feeling the vibrations in both of them where they are connected.

He barely knows him and he’s too young, but GODSALMIGHTY, Kozmotis can’t think of anything but pulling Jack into one of the dark corners where the flashing lights don’t reach and forgetting about everything else on his mind.

WHAT IS HAPPENING?! He can’t let go, can’t fight the urge to break away, and Jack only makes it more difficult by tightening the embrace. Jack’s hand moves to the back of Kozmotis’ neck, spreading his finger wide like a starfish, pulling Kozmotis harder against him. At the same time, Kozmotis can feel Jack’s other hand slide out of his pant pocket to just underneath his dress shirt, lightly scratching the small of his back with his fingernails.

Kozmotis has never felt like this before, has never had someone do things like this to him before. He likes it, a lot. Maybe too much, He shouldn’t be here, doing such things, especially with such a young person.

For the briefest of seconds, Jack releases his magical hold on Kozmotis’ lips, long enough only for him to gasp in a breath before Jack returns for another kiss. This time, however, it’s not just a simple kiss. Jack’s lips are parted and his tongue is nudging at Kozmotis’ closed lips, trying to get them to separate just enough to get through.

Kozmotis can’t help his actions at this point; all of his senses and muscles have their own minds, and he is nothing but their captive. He gives in completely, merely a passenger, a tag-along, to his body’s drives. 

 

{JACK:}

Kozmotis widens his jaw, allowing for Jack to delve deeper in, and Jack accepts the invitation to examine Kozmotis’ mouth with his own. Jack can feel Kozmotis shiver from the unexpected cold temperature, and he can’t help but let out a quick snort. THAT NEVER GETS OLD, he thinks to himself. He enjoys the rare occasion when someone experiences the unique sensation of touching his frozen physique; the initial reaction is always the same – shock and surprise – but everyone’s body does something different, and he remembers each one.

Jack senses Kozmotis bending, and smiles appreciatively when his ass and thighs are grabbed. Then, in one swift movement, Jack is lifted off of the ground and is firmly situation atop Kozmotis’ slender but strong pelvis, with long arms surrounding him to hold him up. Jack responds immediately: he locks his legs around the tall figure, securing himself with one hand on his shoulder and the other bunched in his hair.

OOOH, HE DOES HAVE AN ADVENTUROUS SIDE. YAY!

The two tongues battle for dominance, and because of it Kozmotis starts to lose his balance. Jack can feel him stumbling through the crowd, bumping in to all sorts of people, carrying Jack around with him and trying to keep him steady. Soon, Jack’s back crashes into a wall; the swarm of dancers must have shifted over and left some room around the edges of the floor. Jack barely notices, too enraptured by the passion between himself and his new “friend”.

It’s been ages since he’s felt this kind of heat with another person; he has sorely missed it. But he realizes that this hunk of man still needs some help in this department. Jack breaks away from making out and leans his head to grab Kozmotis’ ear with his teeth, gently pulling on it as well. He earns a solid, ecstatic moan – the best kind – from Kozmotis, whose breathing is rapid and staggered.

The sound makes Jack’s own member twitch, the want for it to be touched growing with each new sensation. Then, he remembers that he’s supposed to start being helpful to others, but that doesn’t mean he can’t benefit from such a thing, too. He turns inward to whisper in Kozmotis’ ear, and speaks clearly.

“Explore.”

An exasperated sigh escapes Kozmotis’ lungs, but he doesn’t move except to dig his fingers into Jack’s back and shoulders. He’s even MORE tense than he was a while ago.

MY, MY, HE NEEDS MORE HELP THAN I THOUGHT!

And Jack is happy to oblige. He wants to be touched; he likes having a two-way street between partners, giving and receiving. He’s given plenty to Kozmotis, and now it’s his turn. Plus, it’ll be good for the stiff to REALLY loosen up, and this is the perfect opportunity.

“Go ahead,” Jack coos to Kozmotis. He reaches for the lower hand on his back, pulling it down ever so slightly and using his own fingers to lift up his hoodie. Once most of Kozmotis’ hand is under Jack’s shirt, he moves his hand to Kozmotis’ elbow and pushes it up even further. The sensation of Kozmotis’ hand sliding up his back leaves a trail of pleasurable warmth in its wake, causing a deep moan in Jack’s throat.  
Kozmotis is still stiff, but he takes control over his hand and continues upward when Jack’s arm can’t bend any farther. Jack ruffles the hair in his other hand, and strokes up the lean, toned muscles of Kozmotis’ arm and shoulder with his now-free hand.

“Exploooore,” Jack whispers again in Kozmotis’ ear, this time with a little more authority and drawing it out, hoping it will be more effective. He takes the hand resting on Kozmotis’ head and grabs a handful of hair, then forces his head to angle down toward Jack’s neck and collarbone.

After a brief hesitation, Kozmotis obeys. 

 

{KOZMOTIS:}

When Jack forces his head down towards his neck, Kozmotis notices the vague outline of a snowflake on Jack’s collar bone. A tattoo, he assumes, but it’s not the classic black ink used most often for tattoos; these lines glow a light blue, the color radiating from his skin, shining in the darkness. He takes it all in within a second, and doesn’t think much of it except to let the word PRETTY pass through his mind.

Avoiding said tattoo, Kozmotis first starts to lick Jack’s neck, gradually getting used to the tingling sensation on his tongue and lips from the cold of Jack’s skin. Then he begins to plant kisses, and soon he is practically gnawing at the flesh and roams all over the area. He hears multiple sighs of contentment coming from Jack’s mouth, and feels the slight pull whenever Jack tightens his grip on his hair.  
Kozmotis always keeps one arm wrapped around Jack’s lower torso, just to make sure he doesn’t let him fall, but the pressure of his own body up against the boy’s is probably enough to ensure that Jack stays where he is. His other hand, however, is sliding up, down, and all around wherever he can reach on Jack’s back. Kozmotis is stunned by not only the bizarre coolness of his skin, but also its softness and firmness. It’s so…otherworldly. So fascinating. So…lovely.

Kozmotis can’t help but give in to the urge to gingerly scratch his nails down the length of Jack’s back from neck to tailbone. In reaction, Jack exhales a long moan, deeper and louder than any of the sounds he’s produced before. That noise, in combination with a sharp tug at his hair and Jack’s fingers tensing like talons into his shoulder, sends a large wave of heat to his groin.

“I want you.”

Kozmotis hears a hitched breath from Jack. He thought the words had only passed through his mind, when in reality they had been spoken aloud. He pauses, then abruptly raises his head to find Jack’s face.

Jack isn’t staring shocked and wide-eyed as he had expected. Breathless, obviously, but there’s no severe expression on his face…except for that damn SMILE, and possibly a “twinkle” in his eyes.

Without breaking eye-contact, Jack snakes his own hand between their entangled bodies, searching for someth–

Kozmotis bucks under Jack’s cold hand over his heated and solid member, forcing his jaw to drop and a surprised breath to escape his throat. His hold around Jack slips just enough that Jack can untangle his legs from around Kozmotis in time to land on his feet. Kozmotis slides his hand from under Jack’s hoodie and grabs his hips to make sure he doesn’t crumple to the ground, then places a hand on the wall to steady himself, all the while never looking away from Jack’s face.

“I’m sorry, I– ”

Jack places his hand on the side of Kozmotis’ face, then leans in and their lips melt into a firm kiss. Their eyes close, and Kozmotis revels in the simple sensation (compared to what they were doing just moments ago). Then, Jack takes Kozmotis’ hand on his waist and brings it to his own hard member, surprising Kozmotis enough that a shiver shoots down his spine and his eyes fly open.  
Jack slowly leans away, far enough that his whole torso lays against the wall behind him.

“Then take me,” Jack replies smoothly.

There’s a moment of stillness, allowing Kozmotis to really examine Jack’s face and memorize it as best as he can, before he feels the pull of Jack’s hand on his neck that leads to another kiss. Pure sweetness, soft and gentle, rolls through Kozmotis’ body; a tamer sensation than the high ecstasy he had previous felt, but just as all-consuming. How interesting it is to be able to experience such different feelings with the SAME person. Part of him wants this feeling never to end, but another part of him wants to go on an adventure into the ecstasy which Jack had shown him a piece of.

To his dismay, the moment doesn’t last long.

“DAD?!” 

 

{JACK:}

GODDAMMIT! THAT MUST BE HIS NO-GOOD BRAT. HOW THE HELL…?

He was so CLOSE! He could’ve gone all the way with this guy – well, maybe not ALL the way, but pretty damn NEAR it!  
WHY NOW?!

Jack huffs out a strained sigh. He is, however, comforted by the fact that Kozmotis seemed to be very taken with him. It makes him confident that their experience tonight will cause Kozmotis to want more, rather than be satisfied with an incredible, thrilling event that he will save in his memory and never do again; maybe it’ll be enough for Kozmotis to seek Jack out.

Jack certainly wants more, and if he isn’t pursued (by using the little gift he put in Kozmotis’ pocket), he has no problem becoming the pursuer.

For now, though, the night is coming to a close. Their time is up. FUCK.

 

{KOZMOTIS:}

OH, NO.

The horrified shriek is not far away, and the shock of it sends Kozmotis yanking his head up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash as he spasms. He pivots around, ignoring Jack’s light laughter, and stares into his daughter’s bugged out green eyes.

“Sera…”

SERAPHINA! OH MY GODS. HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN SHE'S THE WHOLE REASON! I'M HERE BECAUSE SHE'S IN TROUBLE! THAT'S RIGHT, I'M HERE TO TAKE HER PRISONER!

“Go get ’em, tiger,” Jack snickers, planting a sloppy kiss against Kozmotis’ cheek and sliding against the wall to sneak out of frame. Jack laughs when Kozmotis flails to get himself away from the fact that he had just been fornicating with some barely legal young man… Right in front of his daughter, apparently.

SHIT! WHAT SHOULD I DO?

Kozmotis turns to look at the aforementioned youth, only to set his sight on a dark wall. He looks around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of that bright, almost-white hair, but Jack is nowhere to be seen. Kozmotis feels a sullen, sinking feeling in his stomach; he doesn’t want to lose him. How could someone he just met suddenly become so important to him?

And then he remembers someone else who is important. He whips around again, and strides with heavy steps toward his daughter, a statuesque figure with an expression of terror and bewilderment.

RIGHT. HERE WE GO.

“Seraphina!” He manages, thanking the universe that his voice doesn’t hitch at all as he storms over, ignoring her widening eyes and his flushed face. “We are going home. Now!”

“Dad! Holy SHIT! What were you– ”

“Watch your tongue, young lady! I… I couldn’t get across this ridiculous floor without blending in!” He snaps, feeling his face heat up as he grabs her by the arm and starts steering her out. He notices Seraphina’s friend with the colorful hair and feathers standing nearby. “And YOU, get yourself home!” He shouts authoritatively. Tia melts into the crowd, which will probably be the cause of another screaming match between him and his daughter later.

“Don’t talk to her that way! And Dad, are you seriously not going to explain why you were kissing– Oh my GODS! OH MY GODS! Dad, how OLD was that kid?!”

Kozmotis grits his teeth, heading straight for the door. Of course he can’t hear laughter behind him, that’d be absurd, the music is too loud for that. “Unlike YOU, young miss, old enough to be here.”

“DAD, THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE!”

“Don’t change the subject! You snuck out of the house and then illegally snuck into this club! You are going nowhere but school for the rest of the year!” The blast of cool, nighttime air as they finally emerge from the building is like a blessing, leaving everything behind feeling like a dream. A hot…ethereal…strangely wonderful dream… NO! FOCUS!

“Um, NO, I feel like we need to talk about the fact that I just saw YOU, my FATHER, kissing some way-too-young TWINK!”

WHAT IS A "TWINK"? He asks in his mind.  
“No,” Kozmotis huffs, opening the car door and shoving her in. “We do NOT. The only thing we’re discussing is how much TROUBLE you’re in.”

“What I just saw was punishment enough, believe me!” Seraphina whines, slumping back into the seat and covering her face with her hands. “Oh my GODS, Dad! I’m gonna be traumatized for LIFE!”

“Grounded!” Kozmotis repeats firmly, refusing to even be able to talk about what happened back in that horribly exotic place. “You are grounded for life. I can’t BELIEVE you– ”

“I can’t believe YOU! I swear, I’m going to be sick!”

“You have NO IDEA of the suffering that awaits you when we get to the house! You are in for the punishment of your life, missy!”

The shared hysterics continue for the rest of the drive home. Kozmotis spends most of it deflecting any talk about what Seraphina saw back in the club. He can’t stop shifting in his seat every time she mentions that damn boy, and his fury about the whole situation only increases.

In a short moment of silence while he adjusts himself in his seat, he feels a strange sensation in the back pocket of his pants; it feels like a slip of paper. He suddenly recalls a certain hand inserting itself into said pocket during a particular encounter on the dance floor, and he assumes it probably has a hastily-scribbled phone number on it.

His mind tries to block out the knowledge that he has a way to contact that pale-haired, mystical boy, to talk with him and arrange to see him again, and who knows WHAT else. The urge to maybe…probably…okay, DEFINITELY, plan on at least texting that number later, is simply too strong for him to ignore. He can’t wait to get home, to finally settle things with Seraphina and watch her stomp up the stairs to her room, and – most importantly – to take a look at whatever-the-hell is in his pocket. It’s all he can imagine for the rest of the drive.

No matter what he tells his troublesome daughter about the events that unraveled on this night, and no matter what happens when he finally inspects the content of his pocket, Kozmotis cannot deny to himself that he will NEVER forget his wondrous experience with…

JACK.


End file.
